Not Her Best Idea, Right?
by name here please
Summary: After Nelson's party, Stevie asks Zander to sing for her. What will be the result?


So, hey.

I'm so sorry for my absence. I really apologize to all those who care and know what I'm talking about, but I don't think I'll be finishing A&C. I'll have more on that later.

But in the mean time, I've recently become obsessed with Max Schneider. I swear that man is an angel of hotness sent to earth to test us all (and I'd SO fail that test. . .). He's an amazing singer, especially in his covers of various songs such as payphone by Maroon 5, Not Over You by Gavin Degraw, and Breakeven by the Script. There's an incredibly beautiful amount of raw emotion with which he sings, and not many people feel the music on as deep a level as he does.

That is what inspired all the one-shots that seem to be crowding my brain and lifting me out of this unbelievable writing funk. Anyway, here's to you all lovely people. Thank you for sticking with me.

Disclaimer: Nickelodeon owns How To Rock and all recognizable characters from that show.

/

Maybe forcing him to sing wasn't her best idea.

In fact, it might even be her worst-which was a major achievement in and of itself as each of her brothers somehow came up with new situations that seemed to require fixing rightthatsecond, and it was a miracle they were all still alive. But they were there alone, stuck on clean up duty after Nelson's party (refusal hadn't been an option once Kasey brought up the cats. . .) and his voice was still ringing in her ears even now.

So she turned and asked him to sing for her. They were, after all, the last people here and he'd done amazingly during the performance. Twelve similar inquiries finally resulted in a yes (maybe the puppy dog eyes had helped. Just a little.) and with a mere ten seconds of staring him down, he finally crumbled and moved toward the mic.

"What should I sing?" It seemed odd; Zander was usually sure if himself, confident. Here though, as he played with the zipper of his leather jacket, he was vulnerable, touchable-not like the unreachable god as she normally saw him.

She shrugged, trying to disguise the tango her body seemed to be playing-heart pounding blood pumping stomach rolling (pleasepleaseplease don't throw up!)-at not only his look but the prospect of what was about to happen. "Whatever you feel."

He nodded, closing his eyes in concentration-a look she was all too familiar with from sitting next to him in most classes. Really, it wasn't fair for him to bite his lip like he is now and oh god those perfervid eyes are on her now and it's not REALLY possible for your insides to melt right?

Only maybe it is because now he's opened his mouth and he's singing (a song she coincidentally remembers telling him is her favorite) and she really hopes the carpet is absorbent because now it's not just her insides melting it's her entire body and damn, it shouldn't be legal to have eyes like this; eyes deep and impassioned enough to send a shock coursing throughout the entirety of her body (and isn't that logical because she remembers hearing somewhere that electricity passes through liquid and her body might now possibly be a puddle).

And now because she was thinking (stupid selfish brain) the song was halfway over and he was moving closer and god this wasn't her best idea. If he kept looking at her like THAT and wasn't at least an arm's length away, then she would be forced to jump him. To teach him a lesson for going around paralyzing people, of course.

He was close now. Close enough to see the way his neck strained for the high notes. The uninterrupted, even skin tone, darkened with some colored background she'd never bothered to ask about. She could smell the spices and earth and syrup and something so undeniably Zander she didn't even attempt to discover its origin and she was so CLOSE to slipping up. . .

Finally he quit moving, and she was so relieved she almost didn't notice he was right there thisclose almost touching and BREATHE Stevie. Breathe. So what if he's grabbing your hands? So what if the song was almost over and he'd need something to do with those lips afterwards? Just, breathe.

But maybe she was breathing too much. Because now he was looking at her in concern and his voice hitched for the first time and how was it possible for someone to look even sexier by messing up?

Perhaps it was the almost invisible blush spreading from his cheekbones to under the collar of his shirt. Or-more likely-his teeth digging softly into his bottom lip after the last note as if afraid of being judged.

"So?" The shake in his voice should've been imperceptible, but she noticed it as easily as a tornado could rip apart a house. "How was that?"

She could only nod her head in earnest, afraid to open her mouth or even move for fear what she might say or do. And Zander's caught on as well, and this has to be her worst idea ever because Zander knows and he's smirking and nobody should be put under this much temptation and damn she just can't help it!

And suddenly she's on her tiptoes and holding his shoulders for balance. Her eyes are closed and those lips of his, so used to putting magic in the air was lighting a fire in her heart and when did she turn into a teenage girl?

He's pulling away now, and smiling. Those guitar playing arms are wrapped around her waist, and his heart is pounding just as thunderously as hers right under her ear and she almost doesn't care about all the cheesy phrases that ran through her mind (as long as they never come out.). And okay. So maybe. . .

This was her best idea ever.

/

I swear, this was much longer in my notebook.

Review! Bye, and thanks for reading all of you lovely people.

~Rachel


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